The Disease of Images

At a relentless 130 BPM, this is peak-time techno with its collar turned up. The energy is absolute—ten out of ten—yet Tejada keeps it hypnotic rather than chaotic, threading the 12A key through lean, forward-thinking electronics that feel sculpted for basement systems. Every bar presses forward with serious underground pedigree, tight and claustrophobic.

In the mix, it functions as either a transitional bulldozer or a 3 AM centrepiece, forging a space that feels simultaneously expansive and boxed-in. There is nowhere to hide in this key; the low end locks in while the upper frequencies flicker like failing neon. It moves bodies without asking permission—exactly the sort of image-erasing weapon the title suggests.